Could You Be Loved?
by Miguel51
Summary: Peyton Sawyer is tired of being heartbroken because people always leave her, so she has decided to give up on love. Can a certain red-headed newcomer change her mind? PACHEL BRUCAS
1. Before You

**Could You Be Loved?**

Disclaimer: OTH belongs to Mark Schwann. Fic title courtesy of Bob Marley & the Wailers.

Summary: Peyton Sawyer is tired of being heartbroken because people always leave her, so she has decided to give up on love. Can a certain red-headed newcomer change her mind? PACHEL

* * *

**1 - Before You**

The first time Peyton Sawyer kissed another girl she was fifteen years old. Her name was Shannon, and her family had been on vacation at Hilton Head when the blonde and her father had spent the summer there. Shannon had deep blue eyes and rich auburn hair, and lips that had tasted like peaches. Peyton fell hard for that girl in those six weeks, her heart crushed when the summer had ended and they had been forced to part ways.

When she came out to Brooke the beginning of junior year, the brunette was stunned but extremely supportive. She told Peyton that this changed nothing between them, except maybe the fact that there were simply more boys for Brooke to hook up with now that Peyton had switched teams. The cheerleading captain assured her that she was still her best friend, and that she loved Peyton. Though only in a completely platonic way, of course.

A quarter of the way into the school year, Lucas Scott joined the basketball team and set things on their ear. Nathan Scott, one of the few people who knew Peyton's secret, found his half-brother's fixation with his blonde friend annoying and continually tried to drive him off. He even resorted to pretending to be Peyton's boyfriend, but the blonde cheerleader put the kibosh on that scheme by simply telling Lucas that she was gay.

Almost immediately afterward, the whole school discovered Peyton's secret. At first, the blonde believed that Lucas was responsible for the leak, but soon discovered that it had been Bevin who had accidently let the word slip. It was difficult for a while, but her friends helped the blonde get through all of the fallout, most especially Brooke, who tore Bevin a new one for letting the cat out of the bag before Peyton was ready.

It was shortly after things started to settle down that Peyton had met newcomer Anna Taggaro, the star player of the varsity girl's volleyball team, and fell madly in love with the beautiful latina. Their relationship lasted almost five months until Anna's parents found out and shipped her off to some far away private school, leaving Peyton despondent and alone.

Six months have passed since then, and her heart was finally beginning to heal. In fact, she was starting to believe that maybe it wasn't worth falling in love again.

"Why bother?" Peyton asked herself, driving down Main Street one night with her music blaring. "People always leave."

* * *

Rachel Gattina didn't believe in love. No, scratch that. It wasn't that she didn't believe in love, it's just that she'd never been in love. She never actually felt it before, familial or romantic. Sure, her parents said that they loved her, showered her with money and gave her whatever she wanted, but was that love? Or simply guilt for their lack of presence in her life?

She had no idea.

Even after receiving the plastic surgery she'd begged her parents for and taking several lovers from both sides of the fence, Rachel was still unsure if she believed in love. She most assuredly believed in lust, but love? She definitely still harboured doubts on that subject.

When her parents informed Rachel that they were moving her to Tree Hill, North Carolina, the red-head was beginning to lose heart in her quest for love.

That is, until she caught sight of HER.

Rachel had been minding her own business, just exploring this new town where she'd been deposited by her parents, with her headphones firmly ensconched in her ears, when the sudden screech of tires captured her attention. She glanced up in surprise at the driver of the black Mercury Comet that had almost run her down, ready to ream them out only to have the words die on her tongue.

The driver was a beautiful blonde girl with magnificent curls and the saddest viridian eyes that Rachel had ever seen. The red-head found herself instantly drawn to this girl for some reason, who was now directing a very annoyed expression towards her. The blonde made an impatient gesture for her to move along, then drove off after the red-head numbly moved aside.

"I have got to find out who that girl is," Rachel stated, thinking out loud.

* * *

**End scene.**

**Okay, I know what you're thinking. What the hell is he doing starting another story when he already has so many other fics on the backburner? Well, this is just something that's been creeping about the back of my head and I dared not ignore it any longer. So there!**

**Reader response will help determine the update frequency, so give me some love people!**

**Track 1: Before You ~ Chantal Kreviazuk (from 'Colour Moving Still')**


	2. Dance, Dance

_A/N- Okay, for those of you wondering, I've decided to take a short break from 'Tomorrow Starts Today'. Don't fret though, because I'll be getting back to it by the beginning of December, if not sooner. So everything's shiny. Now get to reading this here chapter, which was a blast to write by the way. Enjoy!_

* * *

**2 - Dance, Dance**

It was the day after she had almost been run down by the mysterious blonde, and Rachel found herself nowhere near to discovering the girl's identity. Of course, it would probably help if she actually knew somebody in this shitty little town, but that was besides the point. Annoyed that she'd wasted the entire day hoping to run into that girl again, Rachel decided to call it quits and just head home. She was halfway to the large empty house her parents had chosen to buy (but not live in) when her stomach made its needs known, causing the red-head to grimace in slight discomfort. Skipping lunch was a bad decision in retrospect, but one that could be easily remedied. Not wanting to cook for herself though, Rachel walked a short distance down main street to where she remembered seeing a small restaurant earlier. After finding it in short order and entering the building, the red-head took a seat at the counter and waited to be served.

"Welcome to Karen's Cafe," a middle-aged brunette greeted with a pleasant smile. "What'll you have, miss?"

Rachel politely returned the smile and ordered herself a roast beef sandwich with fries on the side, and an orange juice to wash it down. When the friendly waitress nodded and left to prepare her food, the red-head looked up at the ceiling and began to lazily spin herself around on the stool in a desperate attempt to alleviate her ever growing boredom. This lasted about twenty seconds before snippets from a conversation caught her attention, though it could hardly be called eavesdropping since the two weren't exactly trying to be quiet. They obviously didn't care if anybody was listening.

"I'm so excited about tonight!"

"Yeah, it's gonna kick ass! What are you going to dress up as?"

"A cheerleader!"

"Ah, Bevin? You do realize that you actually are a cheerleader, right?"

"What's your point, Theresa?"

"Nevermind," the second girl sighed, then stood up from her chair. "Hey, let's go and get ready at my house."

"Okay, I'll just go and pay for our stuff," the one named Bevin replied.

_Well, that was amusing,_ Rachel smirked, turning back towards the counter just as the waitress from earlier arrived with her order. She smiled in thanks, then quietly began to eat her food. While she was finishing up a few minutes later, the red-head started to wonder what exactly those two girls were talking about before they had left.

"You must have been really hungry," the waitress remarked, returning to bus her dishes.

"Skipped lunch," Rachel replied casually, then leaned forward. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I heard some girls talking about dressing up for something, and I was wondering what the deal was, seeing as Halloween isn't until Monday, right?"

"Yeah, but Saturdays and Wednesdays are 'all ages nights' at Tric," the waitress informed her. "So the management decided to hold a costume party tonight rather than two days after."

"That makes sense, I guess," Rachel nodded, deciding that she was going to join in the festivities. It definitely beat the prospect of sitting around in some dark spooky plantation era house by herself. "So, where exactly is this Tric place anyway?"

* * *

"Why the hell aren't you answering your cell, P?" Brooke growled in frustration, pulling up to the curb in front of her best friend's house. The usually bubbly brunette hung up her own cellphone after getting Peyton's voicemail for the thirteenth time that day, wondering why she even bothered trying sometimes. _If you're still moping over Anna, I am so going to kick your ass, P! My God, it's been over five months for heaven's sake! Get over it already!_ Brooke paused at the front door, shaking her head in disgust. _Oh, you're one to talk, Davis. Like this whole 'non-exclusive' thing you have going with Lucas is any better than Peyton's moping. Damn it, Team Breyton has had some serious bad luck in the love department lately, haven't we? _Brooke didn't quite know what was worse. Lucas cheating on her with Bevin and then Theresa, or Anna's parents shipping their daughter off and breaking Peyton's heart in the process. _Hmm, tough call._

"Oh, hello, Brooke," Larry Sawyer greeted, her best friend's father bringing the head cheerleader back from her reverie. "Peyton's upstairs getting ready for that costume party, so just head on up."

"Thanks, Papa Sawyer," Brooke smirked, shooting him that flirty look like she did with every guy that the cheerleader found attractive regardless of their age. "You're looking pretty snazzy there. Got a hot date, or something?"

"Thank you, Brooke," Larry scoffed in amusement, all too used to the girl's antics. "But no, not unless you consider a night in front of the television a hot date."

"You know, if yo-"

"Brooke Penelope Davis!" Peyton shouted from upstairs, causing the brunette to jolt. "You had better not be hitting on my dad again, you whore!"

"It's just all in good fun, P," she called back, then grinned widely at Peyton's dad. "Duty calls, Mr. Sawyer!"

"Nice costume by the way," Larry complimented, then added with a slight frown. "Though I don't think the Devil is supposed to have feathers."

"Why does everybody have to point that out?" Brooke moaned in despair before making her way upstairs to Peyton's bedroom, where she sat down dejectedly atop the blonde's bed and began to pout. "I don't think I wanna go if everybody's gonna keep pointing out to me that the Devil isn't supposed to have feathers all freaking night, P."

"Hey, you're the one who's been bugging me the last few days to go to this thing, so suck it up, princess," her best friend replied, her voice echoing slightly from inside her walk-in closet.

"Hey, what are doing you in there? I thought you came out of the closet already?" Brooke teased, unable to resist the temptation to do so.

"You're a real bitch, you know that, right?" Peyton retorted, stepping out to reveal her costume. "So, what do you think?"

The brunette grinned at her. "The Devil and the Angel of Death, huh? Don't you think that's just adding fuel to the fire on those rumors about us, Peyt?"

"Meh, whatever," the blonde shrugged, her ebony wings moving along accordingly with the gesture. "Like I give a crap what everybody else thinks anymore."

"So bitter," Brooke teased.

"Can we just get going?" Peyton sighed, impatient. Brooke rose from the bed, then walked over to the blonde and poked her hard in the stomach. "Ow, what the hell, Brooke?"

"That's for not answering your cellphone earlier," Brooke admonished before linking arms with her best friend. "Now let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

"We're young, we're hot," Brooke stated, turning to grin at the blonde while they stood in the main entrance way of Tree Hill's hottest club, Tric. "Let's do some damage."

"I think you popped my spleen back at the house," Peyton muttered, rubbing her abdomen where Brooke had stabbed the blonde with her finger. "It still hurts."

The lead cheerleader groaned, exasperated with the other girl's whining. "Look, how many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

"Kiss it better," she ordered with a smirk.

"I'm your best friend, not your girlfriend," Brooke reminded.

"It was worth a try," she sighed in over dramatic fashion, releasing her hold on Brooke's arm. "I need a drink."

"I'm going to look for Lucas," the brunette replied, then cried out. "Team Breyton, break!"

"Team Breyton?" Peyton frowned, then shook her head at the other girl. "You're so retarded sometimes."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," Brooke smiled before disappearing into the crowd.

"Well, that's true, I guess," Peyton muttered with a small smile on her lips, heading in the opposite direction that Devil Brooke had gone. After being jostled and bumped while weaving her way towards the bar for a pop, she found herself a seat out of the way and decided to people watch until Brooke rejoined her. It wasn't long before Peyton began to get bored with the entire scene and wanted to go home, but resisted the urge to just up and leave because Brooke would never let her hear the end of it.

"Hey, Peyton," a disco clad Mouth greeted, sidling up next to her. "How's it going?"

"Badly," she sighed, turning to face the blonde boy. "My best friend ditched me to go look for her cheating quasi-boyfriend, the music more or less sucks monkey nuts, and I think somebody spilled coke on my wings earlier."

"Sorry, that last one might have been me," he apologized with a wince.

"Meh, whatever," she muttered, taking another sip from her plastic cup. "I only came here tonight because Brooke wouldn't stop bugging me about it. She thinks I need to have some fun."

"Well, if that's the case, why don't you and I have some fun then?" Mouth asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Why Marvin McFadden, I didn't know you had in you," Peyton gasped in an overly scandalized tone, hand held up against her chest in mock indignation. "Are you propositioning me?"

"Yes, I am," he nodded, taking her hand. "To dance!"

Peyton laughed and allowed herself to be lead onto the dance floor, where she and Mouth owned the spotlight by grooving out to 'Disco Inferno'. When they had finished, everyone in the club began cheering and clapping. She took Mouth's hand and the two of them shared a smile before bowing to their audience.

"Holy crap, you guys," Brooke cried, joining them as they left the dance floor. "That was so awesome!"

"I'm going back to my seat," Peyton told her best friend, but turned to her dance partner before doing so. "Thanks for the dance, Mouth. Believe it or not, I had fun."

"Then it was definitely my pleasure, Miss Sawyer," he bowed slightly, then grabbed a surprised Brooke by the hand. "I believe it's your turn now, Miss Davis."

"My, aren't we the confident stud tonight," Brooke remarked, allowing the skinny boy to lead her onto the now crowded dance floor.

Peyton chuckled to herself while returning to her stool, ordering another drink and then resumed her earlier activity of people watching. While scanning the crowd, her eyes chanced apon Lucas dancing rather closely with some girl in a Pam Anderson costume, which seemed fitting since the older Scott boy was dressed up like Tommy Lee. And if not for the fact that Lucas had claimed to be trying to get Brooke to drop the 'non-exclusive' part of their relationship, Peyton would've found this coincidence amusing. The blonde's eyes shifted towards Brooke's direction to see if her friend had noticed yet, but couldn't find hide nor hair of her best friend anywhere on the dance floor. She returned her gaze towards Lucas and his Pam again to find the girl looking a little uncomfortable as the basketball player had managed to move even closer to the mystery girl.

_Oh, God, he's such a sleaze bag,_ Peyton scoffed, rolling her eyes. _What does Brooke see in his stupid ass anyway? Hell, even Felix was a better boyfriend than Lucas! Sure, Felix was an intolerant, gay-bashing asshole, but at least he was loyal to Brooke. She can do so much better than him. She deserves so much better than Lucas Scott._

Peyton turned around and stared down into her half empty cup, tearing her gaze away from Lucas and his newest potential conquest before she gave into the temptation to go over and slug the bastard.

"Can I have a grape soda over here, please?"

Peyton glanced over at the girl who'd just spoken, her voice having a slightly squeaky sound to it. The blonde was rather surprised to find that it was none other than the Pam Anderson look alike who was dancing with Lucas just moments ago. She was even more surprised to find that the girl was actually quite attractive despite her slutty costume. Especially those eyes. _Interesting. I've never seen anybody with amber eyes before._

"You're staring a bit hard there, angel," Pam smirked, meeting her gaze.

"And you're playing with fire, Pam," she warned, returning the smirk in kind.

Pam's brow rose, a quizzical expression etched on her features. "How so?"

"You know the guy you were dancing with just now?"

Pam nodded, "You mean the creep dressed like Tommy Lee?"

"Yeah, him," the blonde confirmed with a snort. "He's my best friend's quasi-boyfriend and she can get crazy jealous."

"Your friend has poor taste in men," Pam groaned, leaning forward against the bar. "He kept trying to grind his hips into mine. It was kind of gross."

"That's Lucas Scott for you," Peyton chuckled.

"So, why do you call him your friend's 'quasi-boyfriend'?" Pam asked, air quoting the last part of her question.

"Okay, it's like this," Peyton said, explaining the whole 'non-exclusive' agreement that Brooke has instituted on Lucas and what led up to it. By the end of her story, Pam was shaking her head.

"That's just retarded," the other girl stated before suddenly grabbing the blonde's drink away and downing the rest of its contents. "And that was refreshing!"

"Hey, that was mine!" Peyton cried in disbelief.

"And now it's gone, angel," Pam grinned, grasping her wrist to pull her away from the relative comfort of her bar stool. "Come on, let's dance!"

"You could've just asked, you know," the blonde griped, once again relunctantly allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor.

* * *

_I can't believe I found her,_ Rachel grinned while dancing with that green eyed girl who'd nearly run her down the night before, revelling in her astounding good luck. When the red-head had first noticed the dark angel dancing with 'Disco Stu', she didn't really think much of her. That was before Rachel had encountered that same girl at the bar though, where she'd gotten a closer look at her jade colored irises and recognition immediately sparked in her brain. She decided to make a move shortly after their conversation about the asshat who'd been trying to dry hump her on the dance floor, hoping to at least get the girl's name before the night ended. The dance floor was soon filled up with other teenagers, the crowd forcing the girls closer together until they were practically grinding against each other.

"You're a little close there, angel," the red-head told her dance partner.

The dark angel blushed, "Sorry."

_So cute,_ Rachel grinned before leaning forward to close the distance even more so, laying a hand onto the other girl's hip. "I wasn't complaining."

"Oh," she said, visibly swallowing in surprise.

_Time to be bold,_ the red-head decided, swooping in to lightly brush her lips with those of the other girl. She pulled away, grinning at the girl. "Hello."

"Hello," her dark angel whispered, now audible since the song had just ended.

"My name's Rachel, by the way," she introduced, taking a small step back.

"I'm Pey-" the other girl began, only to be interupted.

"Peyton," a shorter girl cried, who was dressed up like the sluttied up version of Sandy from Grease. "Where the hell have you been? Brooke's been looking everywhere for you!"

"Oh, crap," she swore, then glanced back at Rachel. "Um, I've gotta go. See you around?"

"See you around," Rachel confirmed with a wave, standing pretty much alone on the dance floor like an idiot. But she didn't really care about that though, because the red-head had more than achieved her goal for the night.

_Her name is Peyton,_ Rachel thought with a widening smile, while bringing her fingertips to her ruby red lips. Lips that had kissed an angel. _My dark angel's name is Peyton!_

* * *

**End scene.**

**Reviews are more than welcomed. So get to it, people! Thanks!**

**Track 2: Dance, Dance ~ Fall Out Boy (from 'From Under the Cork Tree')**


	3. Fast As You Can

_AN- Okay, if there are any Lucas lovers reading, please keep in mind that I don't paint him in a favorable light in this fic. In fact, I'm a bit mean. You've been warned. Everybody else, please feel free to enjoy this newest chapter!_

* * *

**3 - Fast As You Can**

"Are you sure about this, P?" Brooke asked, her hazel-green gaze meeting Peyton's pure emerald. She waved the scissors side to side a little. "Because we can just stop now, and scratch this off as a moment of temporary insanity on your part. What do you say?"

"Get cutting, Davis," the blonde ordered.

"But I love your curls, Pey," the brunette whined, really not wanting to do this. "Don't you think you're taking this whole 'my Bio-Mom is a lying witch and I need to do something drastic about it' thing a little too far?"

"Hey, when your mom pissed you off in sophomore year and you had me cut your bangs, did I try to stop you?" Peyton frowned at her.

"Yeah, you did, and honestly, I think I should've listened," the head cheerleader sighed, doing a slight body shiver at the memory of how bad her hair was back then.

"I need to do this, Brooke," she begged. "I need to look at least a little different than that...woman. So, please-"

"Fine, I'll do it, just stop it with the kicked puppy look already!" Brooke relented, letting out another sigh. "But I still think this is an overly drastic step you're taking, P."

"Your protest is duly noted and catalogued," Peyton grinned at her in the mirror. "And I hearby declare that you have the right to say 'I told you so', if it turns out to be a disaster, okay?"

"A right I'll definitely use, just so you know," the brunette muttered, reluntantly beginning her task by snipping off a long single curling ringlet.

"That doesn't mean you can do an intentionally bad job though, Brooke," the blonde smirked.

"I know, I know," Brooke chuckled, returning the smirk in kind before getting to back to work. "Now sit still while I perform some magic, because we only have forty-five minutes before opening bell."

"We could just skip the entire day and have a 'Team Breyton' getaway," her best friend suggested, air quotes and all.

"No, we can't," she replied, finding the snick-snick sound of the scissors oddly relaxing for some reason. Brooke glanced at the confused expression on Peyton's face in the mirror, telling the head cheerleader that her best friend and co-captain had forgotten what was planned later on at school. "We have cheerleader auditions at lunch, remember?"

"I hate being co-captain," the blonde grumbled, then brightened at a sudden thought. "Hey, is there any way I could get demoted?"

"No, Pey, there isn't," the head cheerleader laughed, grabbing hold of her best friend's shoulders to make her sit still. "Now quit moving, or you're gonna end up bald!"

"Then the carpet would definitely match the drapes, huh?" Peyton returned with a smirk.

"You're incorrigible," she chided, rolling her eyes at that TMI remark.

The blonde continued to give Brooke that teasing smirk. "Being friends with Haley has really improved your vocabulary, hasn't it?"

"Need I remind you that I have a potentially deadly weapon in my hand?" Brooke quirked an eyebrow, holding the scissors up in a mock threatening fashion.

"Okay, shutting up now," Peyton chuckled, taking the hint.

"Good girl," the head cheerleader snorted before resuming the task of cutting her best friend's golden tresses.

* * *

It was just another day in Tree Hill High for Marvin 'Mouth' McFadden. Another day of being overlooked and ignored by every girl of the student body. Another day of being invisible in general. Somedays, he actually liked being invisible since it meant he could go about his business without any harrassment that many others fell prey to. Other times though Marvin wished he could be known more than just that guy who occasionally hangs out with Lucas Scott, more than just that guy who former student body president Erica Marsh dumped when she became more popular. But more than anything, he wished he could be more than just a friend to a certain brunette cheerleader.

"Hello, Disco Stu," an unfamiliar voice greeted, startling the blonde from his own private little pity party. Mouth glanced at the voice's owner and found himself taken slightly aback by a pair of amazing amber eyes, which were twinkling with amusement.

"Uh, hi," he returned, not really sure on what to say back.

"Today is your lucky day," the gorgeous girl grinned, taking a hold of his arm.

"It is?" Mouth asked, hastily shutting closed his locker as the girl began dragging him away from it. "Wait a second, what are you doing?"

"I need a guide to the auditorium, and I've chosen you," she explained, once more beginning to pull him along. "Now get a move on, buddy."

"I don't even know your name," he protested, stopping again.

"I'm Rachel, and I need you to help me," she explained, still clinging to his arm.

"What? Why?"

"Some creepy guy keeps following me around after I made the mistake of asking him for directions, and now he keeps trying to pick me up using cheesy pickup lines," Rachel explained. "I finally lost him, but I really need directions to the auditorium before-"

"He finds you again," he finished with a nod. "Alright, let's go."

"Thanks, Stu," she said, smiling at him in appreciative way.

"It's Marvin, but you can call me Mouth," he corrected, then quietly added under his breath. "Everybody else does."

"Oh, is there a really dirty and sorrid story behind that nickname?" Rachel asked teasingly, still walking along beside him while holding onto his arm.

"Not really, I was just called that by some jerk who thought I talked too much," he explained, shrugging. "And it's kind of stuck since then."

"Well, that's a pretty sucky story," she laughed as they turned the corner, only to stop as they came face to face with Mouth's ex-girlfriend, Erica Marsh. "Oh, hello."

"Uh, hello," Erica returned, surprised by the red-head's friendly greeting. She glanced at Mouth with a questioning expression on her face. "Mouth?"

"Erica," he replied, tensing up.

"Rachel," the red-head (who was still holding his arm) chirped happily. "And we were just leaving. Weren't we, honey?"

"Um, what?" Mouth and Erica asked at the same time, both of them taken completely offguard.

"Come on, gorgeous, we're gonna be late," Rachel insisted, pulling him away from his stunned ex-girlfriend. "See you around, Erica!"

"Bye," the other girl said almost too quietly that the blonde boy had almost missed it.

"Why'd you do that?" Mouth asked when they turned the next corner.

"Quid quo pro," she answered, still dragging him along. "Besides, you looked all sorts of uncomfortable back there. Ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Thought as much," Rachel replied, then stopped. "Oh, looks like we're there."

"So we are," Mouth said, looking up at the front doors leading into the auditorium. "See, you didn't need me."

"Hey, everybody needs someone on their side," the red-head grinned, finally releasing her hold on his arm. She more or less bounced over to the door, pausing a moment to look back at him. "Besides, I'm all about making new friends. See you around, Mouth."

"See you around, Rachel," he said, feeling a little blown away by the outgoing red-head that had suddenly entered his life, only to exit it just as quickly.

* * *

_Oh, my God, Brooke! Shut the hell up about Lucas already!_ Peyton thought, rolling her eyes at her best friend's contant whining about her boyfriend not playing by their non-exclusive rules. And even though the blonde knew that this wasn't the case at all, she was relunctant to say anything about it. Especially since the last time Peyton tried to talk sense into Brooke on the whole Lucas Scott subject, the brunette ended up freezing her out for almost an entire month afterword. She was definitely not making that mistake again!

"And then he-"

"Um, am I too late for the tryouts?"

_Thank you, whoever the hell you are,_ the blonde thought, looking up at the red-haired newcomer. _Hmm, she looks familiar. Why is that?_

"Excuse me, we were talking," Brooke scoffed rudely, derailing Peyton's train of thought.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," the red-head replied cheekily.

"No, you're not too late," Peyton interupted, cutting off her best friend before the brunette could go off on the girl. "Show us what you can do."

"Sweet," the girl grinned with shining amber eyes, which sent a tingle down Peyton's spine because she suddenly remembered where she knew the girl from. She stepped forward, handing the flabbergasted blonde a CD. "Could you play track five on this please?"

"Yeah, sure," she nodded numbly, taking the disc and handing it off to Brooke without removing her eyes from the girl in front of her. "Here."

"Fine, whatever," she heard the brunette grumble while watching the red-head prepare herself for the audition. The music began to play and sent the girl into a routine that left Peyton gaping like a fish out of water. Brooke obviously noticed her reaction and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Careful, Peyton, you're starting to drool."

"Shut up," the blonde quietly snapped, shoving the brunette away just as the red-head finished her routine. _Damn, she's good, and I'm not just talking about her looks either! I just wish I could remember her name!_

"I would like to thank you on behalf of myself and the group," the girl said while bowing, slightly winded from her exercise. "And I hope we pass the audition."

"I'm sorry," a confused sounding Brooke frowned, not recognizing the quote. "What?"

"John Lennon, the 'Let It Be' album," Peyton explained, impressed by the red-head's knowledge. "The girl knows her music."

"Too bad she was late," the head cheerleader said haughtily. "Sorry, Betty, but we'll get back to you, okay?"

"It's Rachel, actually," the red-head informed in a confident tone. "And yes, you will."

And with that, the red-head strode out of the auditorium with her head held high.

When the doors could be heard closing, Peyton turned to her best friend with a quirked eyebrow. "Looks like we have our girl, right?"

"Oh, please, you just like her because of that Bee Gees thing," Brooke scoffed, then added with a knowing smirk. "That and you think she's hot."

"No, I like her because she's the best candidate for the job," the blonde retorted truthfully, then quietly added as Brooke had just taken a drink from her bottled water. "Her being hot is just a fringe benefit."

Brooke coughed her mouthful of water all over the table at that.

"Oh, gross, Brooke," the blonde laughed, ignoring the glare she was receiving for doing so.

"Ow, that came out my nose," Brooke whined.

* * *

"Hey, Pretty Girl," Lucas moved forward to embrace his girlfriend, only to have the usually bubbly brunette place a hand on his chest. He looked down at her hand, then back up at Brooke. He briefly wondered if she'd heard about his dance with that hottie at Tric, but decided to play it cool and carry on like nothing was amiss. Besides, it was just a dance, right? "What's going on?"

"You, mister, are not playing by the rules, and until you do, you're getting no love from me," Brooke stated.

"Ah, the non-exclusive agreement," he nodded, wondering how long he'd have to keep up this humiliating farce. He was one of the star players on the Ravens, for God's sake! He shouldn't have to beg one of the easiest girls in school for a date. She should be throwing herself at him, damn it!

"Yes, the non-exclusive agreement," she said pointedly. "As in, the verbal contract that you agreed apon, but have yet to uphold, Lucas Scott."

_Not like I haven't been trying, but not alot girls in this school want to piss you off after what you did to Bevin last semester, Brooke,_ Lucas thought before instead replying with, "I didn't really think you were serious about that."

"I was being dead serious," Brooke said, then shot her hand out and pointed across the quad without taking a look. "Now go and ask that girl out on a date!"

He glanced over at the girl in question, and found himself pleasantly surprised to see that it was the girl (who had obviously been wearing a wig since her hair was now red) he'd been dancing with at Tric a few nights ago. He raised his brow at his sort-of-girlfriend, "That girl? Over there?"

"Yes, that girl," she insisted, still meeting his gaze.

"Alright, if you insist," Lucas chuckled, moving to ask the girl out before Brooke could change her mind.

"Wait, what?" Brooke sputtered from behind him, confused by his sudden acceptance of her decree. "Oh, crap."

Lucas smiled ruefully for a moment at her remark, then plastered on a half-hearted attempt at what Haley had dubbed his 'cocky Scott boy smirk'. Though it hadn't been working for him like before, it was still his primary weapon in flirting and such. _Might as well go with it_.

"Hello, long time no see," he greeted, wondering if the new girl would remember him from the costume party.

Apparently, the girl didn't recognize him if her blank expression was any indicator. "Do I know you?"

"Uh, not really, but we did dance at the costume party," he informed, feeling a little sheepish on having to explain himself. "I was dressed like Tommy Lee."

"Oh, right," she nodded, then glanced over his shoulder. "And I take it that's your girlfriend over there watching us like a hawk?"

"Yeah, and she sent me over here to-"

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not interested in whatever weird thing you and your girlfriend have going on," the red-head interupted. "Take your drama elsewhere, capiche?"

"But-"

"Hey, Mouth," she called out, walking away from Lucas without a second glance. "Wait up, buddy!"

_What the hell just happened?_ Lucas frowned in confused humiliation, watching the red-head join up with a surprised looking Mouth McFadden across the quad. He glanced back to find Brooke fuming at the new girl as well, which confused him even more. He shifted his gaze from Brooke to the new girl and back to Brooke again, who chose to meet his gaze right at that moment before she spun on her heel to stalk away in a huff. _And what the hell was that all about?_

* * *

"Where the hell are they?" Brooke shrieked, pacing back and forth in the locker room. "It's fifteen minutes until the rally starts and nobody's even here yet!"

"They'll show up soon, so relax, Brooke," her best friend said, leaning against the wall with a slightly bored expression on her face.

"I bet it's that new girl's fault," she muttered.

"You're being ridiculous," Peyton stated, then pushed herself from the wall at the sound of the doors opening, which was quickly followed by the distinct sound of high school girls giggling. "See? Told you they'd get here."

"Where the hell have you guys been?" Brooke demanded as soon as the group of cheerleaders joined them, each carrying a drink of some sort.

"Sorry, Brooke. We stopped for coffee on the way here, and I guess we lost track of time while getting to know our newest member," Theresa explained with a shrug.

"We brought you one," Bevin offered, holding out a cup to the head cheerleader. "It's a mocha."

"We were supposed to be getting ready for Midnight Madness," Brooke growled, looking down at the beverage with distain. "Not hanging out at Starbucks!"

"Hey, settle down there, Stalin," the new girl said, stepping forward. "We still have a few minutes to limber up, so relax already."

"You did not jus-"

"Hi, guys," a timid sounding Haley greeted, entering the locker room dressed in a cheerleading uniform.

_I knew I could count on you, Tutor Girl,_ Brooke thought with a smug smile, then turned to the new girl. "Well, it looks like we won't be needing your services, Betty. You can leave now."

"One, my name is Rachel," the new girl replied, narrowing her eyes at the head cheerleader as she spoke. "And two, I earned my spot on this squad, which is more than you can say for your friend over there." She looked over at Haley. "No offense."

"None taken," the short brunette replied, only to shrink down when Brooke shot a betrayed look her way.

"We are wasting time here, so let's put it to a vote," Peyton suggested, obviously annoyed with this entire situation. "Who here wants Rachel on the squad?" Everybody but Haley, Brooke and Peyton lifted their hands in the air, though Brooke knew that her friends only did so out of loyalty to her. "And that settles that. Now let's get this stupid rally over with already, because I really want to go home and sleep."

"But the routine only works with nine," Brooke complained.

"Then we'll wing it," Rachel declared, turning to the other girls. "Keep an eye out for any possible changes and try to keep up. Let's go, people!"

Before Brooke could protest again, all the girls (save for Peyton, Haley and herself) followed the red-head out the door into the gymnasium.

"What the hell just happened?" Brooke squeaked, feeling completely thrown about by this turn of events.

* * *

"Well, that was fun," Rachel stated, coming to stand next to Peyton after their routine had come to an end. "Don't you agree, angel?"

"Oh, yeah, tons," Peyton muttered, rolling her eyes.

"You don't seem very happy with me," the red-head observed wryly.

"I'm not very happy to be here at all," the blonde replied, glancing at her sidelong. "My bad mood has nothing to do with you, Rachel."

"Good to hear," she nodded.

"Brooke, on the other hand, looks like she wants to rip your head off," said Peyton, smirking at the newest member of the Ravens cheer squad. "Uh-oh, here she comes."

Rachel turned around just as Brooke reached her, those hazel eyes aflame with anger.

"Hi, Brooke, that was a great routine we just did, huh?" Rachel asked, hoping to diffuse the situation. The red-head now realized that she may have stepped on the cheerleading captain's toes back in the locker room, and Rachel wanted to show that hadn't been her intention at all.

"Save it, new girl," the brunette scowled, shoving a finger in Rachel's face. "I'm onto you, bitch, and it'll be a cold day in hell before I let you take my squad away from me."

"Did you just call me a bitch?" Rachel asked, incredulous. She stepped forward, clenching her fists in rage.

Peyton stepped between them, probably hoping to prevent their confrontation from escalating further. "Guys, come on."

"Get out of the way, P," Brooke ordered, shoving her best friend aside. The blonde stumbled and somehow lost her balance, falling to the gymnasium floor with an audible grunt.

"Hey, watch what you're doing, skank," a now very angry Rachel cried, pushing the brunette back in defense of the blonde girl.

The cheerleading captain pushed her back. "Who are you calling a skank, skank?"

By this time Peyton had regained her feet and once again attempted to get in between the two of them. "Dudes, will you cool it? The entire gym is staring at us!"

"Oh, just let them go, Peyton," Bevin snarked. "Brooke has this coming."

"Shut up, dumb-ass!" Brooke, Peyton and Rachel all said at the same time.

"This is so hot," the Ravens mascot taunted, showing up out of nowhere. "Why don't you make out with one of them, Sawyer? Isn't that what dykes like you do?"

"Okay, I've had enough of your shit, mascot boy!" Peyton shouted, bounding towards the mascot to tackle him onto the hardwood floor. As this was happening, another commotion began from where the players were supposed to enter the gym. Rachel turned at the sound and found that another fight had broken out, one of the combatants being that Lucas guy who tried to ask her out earlier in the week.

"Hey, skank," Brooke cried, catching the red-head's attention once more. Rachel turned back to start reaming out the brunette, but didn't get the chance as the other girl's hand had flown out to strike the copper haired girl hard across the face. She licked her lips, then glanced up to find Brooke looking very proud of herself.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that," Rachel growled before firing a fist into the brunette's smug face, which sent Brooke reeling backwards onto her butt.

The next few moments were a blur as pandemonium broke out, and somehow Rachel had ended up on the floor with none other than her dark angel, Peyton, on top of her.

"Hi there," the blonde greeted, a little out of breath.

"Hi, gorgeous," Rachel returned, a hand placed on the other girl's slender hip. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, fancy that," Peyton smirked before attempting to get up.

"Nope, I'm liking this," the red-head stated, pulling her back down.

"Okay, break it up," the unmistakable gruff voice of Whitey Durham shouted over the microphone, demanding obedience from the unruly mix of basketball players and cheerleaders. "I said, break it up!"

"Oh, well, it was fun while it lasted," Rachel grinned, relunctantly allowing Peyton to get off of her.

"Um, I'll see you around," Peyton replied after helping Rachel to her feet, looking a little flustered before running off towards the locker rooms.

Rachel smirked, "Yes, you definitely will."

* * *

**End scene.**

**Yeah, I realize that this chapter was all over the place, but I had alot of fun writing it. As always, reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!**

**Track 3: Fast As You Can ~ Fiona Apple (from 'When the Pawn...')**

**Next time on 'Could You Be Loved', it's the boy draft!**


	4. Human Behavior

_A/N- I've been feeling pretty uninspired where it concerns most of my OTH fics as of late, but I will try to update more often. Thanks for your patience and please enjoy this newest chapter of PACHEL goodness._

* * *

**4 - Human Behavior**

"So, are you going to give me the status report on you and Lucas?" Peyton casually inquired, falling in step with her best friend while they made their way from the parking lot to the school entrance. "Or should I even be asking such a dangerous question?"

"Since when have you cared about my relationship with Lucas?" Brooke retorted, eyebrow quirked up in suspicion.

"I don't really," the blonde admitted with a shrug. "I just find the whole thing amusing and makes my life seem much more bearable by comparison."

"I don't know if we can even compare your current problems with mine," the head cheerleader stated, referring to what Peyton had told her over the phone the night beforehand. "I mean, that would be like comparing apples and oranges, wouldn't it?"

"Is that another veiled shot at my sexuality?" Peyton joked.

"I meant the thing with your bio-mom, P Sawyer," Brooke scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Not everything is about your lesbian tendencies."

The now short haired blonde bumped hips with her best friend. "What's up your butt, B Davis? Why so cranky?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, a sigh of frustration escaping her lips. "But that Rachel bitch is just really getting on my nerves!"

"And what does the new girl have to do with my earlier question about Lucas?" Peyton asked in surprise.

"Isn't it obvious? That whore is trying to steal him from me, just like she's trying to steal everything else," the usually bubbly brunette sneered. "I mean, she's already got the entire squad eating from her hand! It's infuriating!"

"I don't think that one little dance with Lucas at the costume party and buying coffees for a few of the girls before Midnight Madness constitutes her trying to steal everything from you," the blonde girl stated, only to frown at her friend's scowl. "What?"

"Whose side are you on, anyway, P?" Brooke asked, hazel eyes narrowed.

"Yours," she sighed.

"Well, it sure doesn't sound that way to me!"

"Fine, I'm sorry," Peyton apologized, hands lifted up in surrender. "Just trying to be the voice of reason here. Forgot who I was talking to."

"You know, I hate it when you do that," a sheepish Brooke sighed.

The blonde smirked. "Do what?"

"Use logic," she muttered. "It annoying."

"It's why I'm the brains for Team Breyton though," Peyton grinned, linking their arms.

"If you're the brains, then what am I?" Brooke asked, curious.

"The boobs," her best friend stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, at least mine require more than a training bra for support," she retorted.

"Speaking of boobs," Peyton segued, taking the jibe in stride. "Your boyfriend, and I use that term very loosely here, is putting up some flyers." She released her grasp on Brooke's arm to gently push her in the blonde boy's direction. "Go talk to him."

"Wish me luck," Brooke said, taking a deep breath before she began her approach.

"Good luck," she heard the blonde say from behind her.

* * *

"What the hell is going on here?" Rachel asked in surprised amusement at the two girls currently engaged in a hallway catfight, the red-head coming to stand next to an annoyed Brooke Davis and an uncomfortable Lucas Scott.

"None of your business, whore," the brunette sniped.

"Brooke," Lucas chided.

"Lucas, don't," Brooke ordered.

The blonde boy raised his hands up in front of him before walking away.

"You two have such a loving relationship," Rachel remarked, unable to resist the temptation to goad the head cheerleader. Since the pair had come to blows at Midnight Madness, Rachel found herself less than willing to cut the other girl any sort of slack. Especially when the brunette had pushed Peyton down in order to get in Rachel's face. _Some best friend you are, Brooke Davis!_

"Fu-" Brooke began, only to be interupted by an angry Coach Durham.

"Alright, that's enough, Paris and Nicole," Whitey growled, his gruff shout doing nothing to stop the pair of combatants. "If I wanted to see cheerleaders fight, I'd watch them on pay-per-view!"

"I've got this covered, coach," Brooke assured him. "Bevin, Ashley, break it up already!"

"Well, see that you do, Miss Davis," he warned in a low, almost sinister tone. "Because Principal Turner and I had a meeting of the minds yesterday and decided that if we have another incident like we had at Midnight Madness, then we may forego having cheerleaders this year." The stocky man narrowed his eyes at a now frightened looking Brooke. "Get your squad under control, Miss Davis, or the only games you'll be cheering at will be for the chess team!"

A wide eyed Brooke immediately grabbed the coach's whistle and blew into it hard, which caused Rachel to stiffle a laugh at the gruff old man's pained expression at the loud and unexpected sound. "Squad meeting, NOW!"

After all the members of the cheer squad entered the nearest empty classroom, Rachel watched the irrate captain shut the door and begin pacing in front of them. Her gaze shifted to the blonde head seated in the front, her mind drifting to some not-so-innocent thoughts concerning the girl in question while the still furious cheer captain ranted at her squad. "...and another thing-"

"Okay, we get the point, Brooke," Peyton said, finally having had enough of her best friend's bitching and complaining. "But what exactly do you suppose we do about it?"

"Yes, mine captain," Rachel spoke up, delighting at the sudden panicked expression on Brooke's face. "What do you suppose we do about this absolutely abhorrant behavior?"

"Oh, boy," the blonde groaned, causing the red-head to feel slightly guilty for taunting her rival.

"Um...I..." Brooke stammered for a brief moment before the brunette let out a huge smile, her dimples on full display. "We'll have a draft! A boy draft!"

"A what?" Bevin asked, for once not alone in her confusion.

* * *

"Hey, Peyt, wait up," Brooke cried out after her best friend to quickly join the blonde and linked their arms along the way towards the artist's locker. "So, I was thinking-"

"Oh, no," interupted Peyton with a groan. "What are you up to now, Brooke?"

"Moi? Nothing, my dear P Sawyer," the other girl denied while trying (and failing miserably) at expressing innocence.

"Yeah, whatever, Brookie Monster," Peyton snorted, not believing her best and oldest friend for a single moment. "Now spill it."

"I need you to do me a huge favor in organizing this draft thing I came up with, so I'll come meet you at your house right after school," Brooke continued as though she hadn't heard the blonde girl's chiding tone of voice, then smiled her dazzling smile before heading after Bevin, who was passing by at that moment. "Hey, Bev, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, Brooke," the ditzy girl smiled back, stopping to allow the head cheerleader to catch up.

"Oh, this will not end well," muttered a bitter Peyton, not liking this developement one iota. With a shake of her head, she continued towards her locker in order to gather her supplies for her next class, which was art. Peyton had just opened her locker when her attention was drawn to the CD suddenly held up in front of her face. "NoFX, huh? You have good taste."

"I like to think so," the now familiar voice of Rachel Gattina agreed with a smirk, an almost leering expression on her face while gazing the artist up and down in appreciation.

"Are you always this blatant?' Peyton asked, unimpressed.

"Yes, usually I am," the red-head admitted with a nod, lazily leaning against the lockers while still holding out the CD. "But I also found out that you like these guys and I thought you'd like this amazing bootleg I burned off the net."

"I can't take that, Rachel," she stated, albeit relunctantly.

"Why not? Just think of it as a gift from a new friend," the new girl insisted.

"Brooke is my best friend," the blonde explained, green eyes meeting amber. "And if you haven't noticed, she's not exactly your biggest fan."

Rachel shrugged. "Well, I'm not exactly her biggest fan either, so I guess the feeling's mutual."

"I have to get to art class," Peyton said, closing her locker and turning to leave. She walked about ten feet before spinning on her heel to walk back up towards a smirking Rachel, her head now down as she took the CD from the red-head. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she chirped.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," the blonde girl muttered to herself as she stalked away, hoping like hell nobody witnessed that encounter. If Brooke ever found out it would be a complete mess.

* * *

Rachel watched the slim blonde walk away with the gift she had given Peyton, a feeling of accomplishment filling her entire being at the object of her affections accepting the bootleg CD she'd spent half the night creating.

_You're just one step closer to being mine, Peyton Sawyer,_ the ecstatic red-head thought on the way towards her own locker. Rachel knew she probably had a huge shit eating grin on her face, but she really didn't care. Peyton had accepted her gift, even if she had acted all relunctant about it. When she arrived at her locker Rachel took out her history book for her next class, unaware that someone had joined her there until that person actually spoke.

"Rachel?"

"Oh, hey, Bev," Rachel smiled, closing her locker to regard the closest thing to a female friend she'd made since coming to Tree Hill. "What's up?"

"Can I ask you a question?" Bevin asked.

"Sure, go ahead," she nodded.

"Is there anybody in school who you like?"

"Actually, there are a couple of people I like," she stated matter-of-factly. "There's you, Peyton, that weird little Haley chick..."

"No, I mean, are there any guys you like?" Bevin cut in. "You know, just so we don't end up trying to pick the same guy at this draft thing."

"Well, there's Mouth, but he's just a friend," Rachel continued, not really knowing where this line of questioning was heading but deciding to go along with it any way. "That Nathan guy seemed nice, but I heard he's, like, married or something. So that's a no go." She tapped her chin. "There was that one guy who sang at Tric a few days ago, but I don't remember his name. Chris something or other."

Bevin brighten up at that. "Chris Keller?"

"Yeah, that guy," the new girl nodded, snapped her fingers. "He was cute. In a sleazy kind of way, I mean."

"Okay, so Chris Keller is off-limits then," the blonde tressed cheerleader said, displaying that big, toothy grin that Rachel found adorable.

"Since we're being all friendly-like here, should I be made aware on who you want me to disregard?" Rachel inquired, only to follow the other girl's gaze as Bevin glanced over at a nearby african-american boy taking a drink from the water fountain down the hall. "Not bad, Miss Mersky. Not bad at all."

The boy in question seemed to sense he was being watched and slowly turned to meet their gazes. He gave them a cocky smirk, waggling his eyebrows at them almost comically.

"Okay, I've gotta go to class," a blushing Bevin said before practically running in the opposite direction of the boy they'd just been caught checking out.

"I should probably be heading to class myself," Rachel shrugged, casually breezing by Bevin's potential boy-toy without so much as another glance since her mind had once again drifted back to a certain gorgeous blonde girl.

* * *

"You want me to do what?" Peyton asked in disbelief, truly wondering if her best friend had lost her mind.

"Come on, P Sawyer, it's the perfect plan," insisted Brooke. "It's a win-win situation."

The blonde snorted. "For who?"

"Why me, of course," the cheer captain stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, Peyton had to admit, it was. "I mean, I get to show up that red-hair devil bitch by selecting the guy she likes, while my guy stays safe and sound with you."

"And how do you know I won't grab Lucas up all for myself? I mean, maybe the loneliness of no romantic female companionship is finally getting to me," teased Peyton.

"Don't even joke about that, P," warned Brooke, her hazel gaze narrowed. They stared at each other for a moment before both girls started to laugh at the completely ridiculous notion.

"Seriously though, B, don't you think the other girls will get suspicious of you and me getting the top two picks? I mean, I bet even Bevin will see through this scheme!"

"You worry too much," her best friend insisted. "Besides, it doesn't matter if the other girls see through it, just as long as the new chick will fall for it. And she will since the devil bitch doesn't look all that bright to me." The brunette picked her purse up from the bed, then turned back to Peyton with that trademark dimpled grin on her lips. "This plan is foolproof, P, just you see. I'll show that bitch who's boss around here and things will go back to the way they were before that plastic slut showed up. Remember we draw the draft numbers tomorrow at lunch, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever, Brooke," the sullen blonde sighed in resignation, knowing that Brooke would just ignore whatever protest that Peyton would give.

"Show some spirit, P," Brooke ordered playfully before heading out the door. "See you then!"

_This is going to end badly, I just know it,_ frowned Peyton, falling back onto her bed. A full minute went by until she sat back up, her frown deepening at a troubling thought. _Wait a second, if Brooke knows who Rachel likes, how does that explain Rachel's blatantly flirty behavior towards me since coming to Tree Hill? Unless...damn it._

"Great, now I'm jealous of some guy I don't even know," the blonde groaned in frustration, flopping backwards onto her bed covers. "Thanks a lot, Brooke!"

* * *

"All right, all right, everybody settle down," Brooke said to the assembled cheerleaders, who were all talking amongst themselves when they entered the classroom five minutes earlier. "Is that everybody?"

"Everybody's here, Brooke," Peyton told her, clearly annoyed. "Let's just get this over with already."

"Clearly somebody feels excluded," a familiar voice sniped from the back of the room.

"Shut up, Theresa," Brooke threatened, not liking how the olive skinned cheerleader was still taking the occasional potshot at her best friend's sexual orientation. "Or you're automatically getting the last pick."

"That's not fair!" Theresa cried.

"Then be quiet so we can get this started," the head cheerleader ordered. She held up a basket up for all to see, ignoring the other brunette's withering gaze. "Now in this basket we have several compacts and in each of these compacts we have a number," she explained, gliding up next to her best friend. "Whatever number you get is the order you go in during the draft." Brooke held the basket out toward Peyton. "If you'd be so kind as to draw the first compact, P Sawyer, we'll be under way."

"Um, I don't really want to get yelled at or stuck with the last pick," Bevin spoke up, timidly. "But, um, should Peyton be allowed to pick? It is, after all, a boy draft and everybody knows she doesn't like boys."

"She kind of has a point, Brooke," Peyton agreed.

"You're one of the squad, so you get to pick," instructed Brooke. "There will be no exceptions. Now pick a damned compact, Peyton."

"Fine," the blonde huffed, obviously not wanting a part in this farce. She dug her hand into the basket and, after a brief moment, pulled out one of the many compacts. The cheer captain briefly wondered if Peyton would intentionally pick a different compact than the one that Brooke instructed her to, but smiled widely in relief when her best friend opened the compact to reveal the number '1' for all to see.

"Of all the shitty luck," Ashley muttered.

"One more outburst from anybody and that person is automatically stuck with the last pick," threatened Brooke, fed up with all the bitching and complaining. She then stuffed her hand inside the basket, felt around for the compact with the small notch indicating it was the one she wanted, and lifted it up for all to see. "Well, look at that! Pick number two is mine."

"Can we get a move on? Because I'm supposed to meet a friend in the cafeteria and this is taking longer than I thought it would," Rachel complained.

Brooke was about to (gleefully) stick the red-head with the last pick, but found herself interupted by her best friend.

"Rachel's right, Brooke," Peyton agreed. "Can we hurry this along? I'm getting pretty hungry."

_Traitor,_ thought the head cheerleader before finally relenting to them. "Fine, everybody grab a compact, then you can go," she said in exasperation, then quickly added as the rest of the squad was grabbing a compact. "And remember that you can trade your pick with another member of the squad before we do the draft on Friday night."

"I got number three," Bevin cried happily.

"Number six here," Rachel replied with that ever present and annoying smirk of hers.

"What about you, Tutor Girl? What did you get?" Brooke asked when the other of her two best friends joined her and Peyton at the teacher's desk, trying to ignore how unaffected her nemesis seemed to be with her relatively low draft pick.

"Number four," the shortest member of the squad answered, then turned to Peyton with a quizzical expression. "So who do you plan on picking, Peyton."

"What the hell does it matter?" Peyton snarked back before all but stalking away from her friends.

"Is she ever going to stop being mad at me?" Haley sighed, turning to face Brooke.

"Eventually, she will," the taller of the two brunettes said. "But you've got to remember that Nathan is the second person she came out to after me, so they're pretty tight. And Peyton doesn't like seeing him in pain."

"I'm really wishing I hadn't gone on that stupid tour," sighed Haley again, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Seems the only people who aren't mad at me anymore are you and Lucas."

"That's because we're not," Brooke assured, her arm around the tutor's shoulders. "Now let's grab some really bad cafeteria food before lunch period is over, okay?"

"I hope they have mac and cheese today," a despondant Haley muttered, allowing her roommate and friend to lead her out.

"If they don't, we'll have some when we get home," Brooke promised, her hazel-green eyes falling on her nemesis, Rachel. The red-head laughed at something Bevin said, which caused Brooke to narrow her eyes in hatred. _Laugh it up while you can, whore, because I promise that you won't be laughing after I nab your crush at the draft!_

* * *

**End scene.**

**Now that you're finished with this chapter, please feel free to review. Thanks!**

**Track 4: Human Behavior ~ Bjork (from 'Debut')**


	5. Too Clever By Half

_A/N- Okay, someone said that I'm focusing a little too much on the boy draft episode. I'm forced to agree but since I went through the actual trouble of writing most of this damned chapter before that horrible truth came to light, here's the final chapter pertaining to that particular episode. I hope you like it._

**5 - Too Clever By Half**

_Why is it whenever somebody mentions the Boxer Rebellion, the theme to Buffy the Vampire Slayer gets stuck in my head?_ Peyton frowned with her head down, her emerald gaze glued on the text book in front of her when she felt a piece of paper smack the blonde up side the head. The note fell in front of the blonde to prevent Peyton from continuing the pretense of reading her notebook. She glanced over at Brooke, who had thrown the note in the first place, shooting the bubbly brunette a confused expression.

"Read it," her best friend mouthed, that trademark dimpled grin on display.

"Fine," she mouthed back in annoyance, unfolding the note to find several names written with the title, 'Boys Who Should Consider Themselves LUCKY, aka Brooke's fantasy boy draft'. Peyton rolled her eyes after briefly reading the eight names listed, then haphazardly tossed the piece of looseleaf paper back at Brooke.

"Miss Davis," the teacher said, bringing the entire class' attention on the cheer captain. "Perhaps there's something in that note that could enlighten us about the Boxer Rebellion."

"Well, they totally won out over briefs," quipped Brooke while stuffing the note into her bag, once again displaying that megawatt smile in hopes of escaping the teacher's displeasure.

The joke managed to make the entire class chuckle, but Peyton noticed that their teacher was having none of it. She walked towards Brooke's desk, her hand held out.

"The purse. Let's have it," she commanded.

"Excuse me, Miss...um," Rachel interceded from her chair two desks back, hand held aloft in order to garner the teacher's attention. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

"Jelline," she supplied, her arms across her stomach in impatience.

"Right, Jelline. My bad," the red-head apologized before continuing. "In _New Jersey vs. TLO_, the Supreme Court ruled that unless a law has been broken or there is probable cause to suspect a law has been broken, searches and/or seizures of students' property is unlawful. And last time I checked, not paying attention in class wasn't a crime."

_Well, that was a mistake, Rach,_ a now smirking Peyton thought, knowing that Brooke would be fuming at the red-head's interference regardless of the save or not. The blonde glanced at the brunette to find her suspicion confirmed if the look on Brooke's face was anything to go by. The blonde turned her gaze to Miss Jelline, the young teacher's expression almost an exact copy of Brooke's at the moment. Before the teacher could say anything though, the bell rang to signal the end of the class. Usually Peyton was the first out the door and down the hall like a shot, but instead she chose to wait for the red haired newcomer at the door.

"Pretty sweet legal moves, counselor," Peyton complimented, falling in step with the girl. "Although all you really managed to do was make Brooke resent you even more. Still, great save."

"Thanks, but it's my not-so-legal moves you should watch out for," a flirty Rachel returned, a wide grin on her face.

"I'll keep that in mind," the blonde snorted.

"Did you actually think that I needed your help back there?" Brooke sneered, quickly catching up to them.

"I guess that's a 'thank you' in Brooke world," a bemused Rachel smiled.

"Oh, look, you got something right," the brunette chirped. "It is my world. And you may have my whole squad fooled, but if you're trying to suck up to me, don't bother."

"She did kind of do you a solid back there, Brooke," Peyton cut in. "The least you could do is say thank you."

"You are not allowed to defend her, P," the head cheerleader practically growled, her hand grasping the blonde by the wrist. "In fact, I'd appreciate it if you didn't associate with her at all. Otherwise, you might end up getting an STD or something."

"Well, that's gratitude for you." the red-head muttered.

"Oh, die in fire, you hag," Brooke snarked before pulling her best friend away.

Peyton chanced a quick glance back at the red-head, mouthing an apology in response to Rachel's wave.

* * *

"Now what exactly did your manager say again?" Peyton asked, the two best friends making their way into the quad later that afternoon.

"Well, she told me that she showed my clothing designs to all the corporate monkeys at Suburban Filth," a smiling Brooke proudly stated, amused by many of the boys acting like idiots to garner attention to themselves as she and Peyton made their way towards their next class. "And they totally responded! So all I need is Rachel to die of TSS and life will be perfect."

"Um, yeah, sure, Brooke," the blonde said in a bemused tone, her head snapping left and right at the odd spectacle many of the boys around them were making. "Uh, have you noticed how all the guys have been acting really Stepford-ish lately?"

"It's the Fantasy Boy Draft," she explained. "We have the first two picks."

"Right," Peyton sighed, uncomfortable.

"We should've done this years ago. Now we have all the power," Brooke stated.

"I still say rigging the draft order was a bad idea," the blonde muttered. "Pointless, too."

"And I still say that it wasn't," the brunette returned. "Besides, these guys don't care if they can actually date you or not. It's more of a prestige thing than anything else. I mean, every boy here would kill to be the first pick in the draft."

"Oh, please," the other girl scoffed.

"Don't believe me?" Brooke quizzed, to which her best friend simply responded by quirking a delicate eyebrow. She grinned at her. "Watch this."

"Brooke! What the hell?" Peyton cried in surprise at the books her best friend slapped from her grasp, only to go quiet in disbelief as several boys scurried forward to help gather them up for the slim blonde. "Uh...thanks, guys."

"Told you it doesn't matter, P," Brooke giggled.

* * *

_Well, that was an exercise in collective stupidity,_ sighed Peyton, once again alone after Brooke had gone off to her next class. _Who knew that boys cared for popularity so much?_

"Hey, Peyton," greeted Haley from out of nowhere to join the blonde on her way to the chemistry lab. The shorter girl fell into step with Peyton, who was trying to be nicer to Haley since Brooke had practically read the blonde the Riot Act for her recent treatment of the tutor.

"Hey, Hales," she greeted back.

"Never expected the cheer squad to have more drama than the drama squad," Haley joked.

"What did you expect from cheerleading?" Peyton asked, glancing sideways at the shorter girl. She already knew why Haley had joined the squad, but Peyton wanted to see what the tutor's answer would be. "Hmm?"

"Uh, I don't know," the tutor replied, not at all convincing. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I'm kind of glad I get to see more of Nathan and you guys. I just...I don't know how I'm going to balance this with doing the music thing with Chris."

Peyton came to a dead stop and turned towards her friend. "You're working with Chris again?"

"Yeah, actually-" Haley began.

"You know, for someone that wants to stay close to Nathan," a now very annoyed Peyton interupted, unable to prevent the vitriolic words to spew from her mouth. "Spending time with the guy who drove you apart in the first place is one hell of a way to show it."

Haley began to protest. "Peyton..."

"Stuff it, Haley," the blonde sneered, stalking away.

* * *

"We got ourselves a door holder at two o'clock," Ashley announced to the assembled cheerleaders in the quad, who all let out appreciative noises. "Chivalrous and a good dresser!"

"That's Smitty," Rachel informed her fellow cheerleaders, a box full of binders in her grasp. "And he shoots for the other team. Sorry, guys." She handed the box to a surprised Bevin, who quickly recovered to visibly ponder at what she'd suddenly been burdened with, then began to hand each girl a binder from said box. "I already know who I'm drafting," announced Rachel truthfully, her choice having already been the instant this silly boy draft was brought up. "But I thought you guys could use these scouting reports I put together. Every guy's stats, cross-referenced with dating histories, and stuff written on bathroom stalls."

"Nice," Brooke said, though it sounded rather sarcastic to the redhead. Rachel decided to smile sweetly at her nemesis' current forced one, the rest of the squad all congratulating appreciatively at the reports they were each handed.

"Oh, my God!"

"Thanks."

"Let's see here."

"Wow."

"Oh, I'm drafting the hell out of that!" Ashley cried, her eyes wide at whomever's picture she was now gawking at in the binder. "Rachel, you rock!"

"I do what I can," she shrugged, the praise causing her to grin widely while pointedly ignoring Brooke's death glare.

* * *

"So I heard Whitey's been riding you guys pretty hard lately," Peyton greeted her second oldest friend after Brooke, the pair meeting up on their way to third period. "Glad to see you survived."

"Yeah. Me, too," agreed Nathan with a slight limp, his body still sore from yesterday's gruelling practice.

"How you holding up?"

"I'm rolling with it," he laughed. "I've been meaning to ask you the same question, though." She glanced at him. "I caught the latest podcast and I guess I didn't realize the situation with your mom was so..."

"Fucked?" Peyton finished for him with a smirk.

"Exactly," he nodded.

"Yeah, but, you know, I'm rolling with it," she chuckled.

Nathan smile down at her. "Just so long as you know that you don't have to roll solo."

"Thanks, Nate," the blonde smiled back, then proceeded to change the subject. "Anyhow, you ready for this draft thing?"

"Yeah. Any chance I won't get picked?" he asked hopefully.

"Ah, let's see, I have the first pick," she pointed to her chest. "Whoo-hoo, by the way." Nathan couldn't help but chuckle at her complete lack of enthusiasm. "And then you're safe with Brooke and Bevin, but then there's the fourth pick, who just so happens to be, um, your wife."

"You are getting way too much fun out of this," he pointed out.

"As the owner of the prestigous first pick, it's my right," Peyton returned. "But seriously, look, if you're not ready to go on a date with Haley yet, I can pick you, okay?" Nathan shot her a surprised glance. "But it's completely your call. So you tell me. Do you want Haley to pick you?"

"Hmm," the co-captain of the Ravens frowned, torn between whether or not to accept his friend's offer. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"Sure thing, buddy," the lithe blonde smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "But let me know by tomorrow afternoon, okay? Otherwise, I'll be forced to choose Lucas."

"Lucas?" Nathan asked, confused. "What?"

"It's a long and very stupid story," Peyton sighed.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Is this another of Brooke's crazy schemes?"

"It's another of Brooke's crazy schemes," she confirmed.

"Sucks to be you, P," laughed Nathan.

"Don't I know it," the blonde girl agreed.

* * *

"Okay, great practice, ladies," announced Brooke the next day. "Hit the showers, then meet up at my place tonight at seven for the draft."

_This sucks,_ thought Haley with a longing sigh. She watched from her seat on the bleachers as Whitey put the team through another drill across the gym, her gaze drifting at first longingly towards Nathan then worriedly onto an exhausted looking Lucas on the bench. _I wonder if Luke's ever going to tell Whitey about his HCM?_

"Hi, Haley," greeted Bevin.

"Hey," the tutor returned, surprised by the her fellow cheerleader. It was rare for Bevin to speak with her, even if they were now on the same squad. "What's up, Bevin?"

"I was wondering, how are things going with you and Nathan?" she asked, her expression of seemingly genuine concern.

"Ah, complicated," she answered honestly with a soft, ironic laugh. "But I'm not going to give up on him."

"You go, Hales. Good for you," Bevin smiled, then called over her shoulder to the other cheerleaders. "He's a no-go, girls."

"Oh," several of the assembled cheer squad members groaned in unison.

"Bevin! Nathan's my husband!" Haley exclaimed. "You can't seriously be thinking of drafting him."

"Yeah, Bevin, you can't draft Nathan," Peyton cut in, surprisingly coming to Haley's defense.

"Thank you, Peyton," the singer smiled at her friend, thankful that the blonde seemed to have finally forgiven her.

"I wasn't finished," Peyton said, her tone mocking. "You can't draft him because I got the first pick." She looked Haley directly in the eye. "And I'm taking him."

Haley stared in shocked hurt as her smug blonde friend sauntered away, only to quickly recover and scowl in anger at the retreating back of the traitorous Peyton Sawyer.

* * *

"What's this I hear about you picking Nathan, P?" Brooke demanded, her hand grasping the blonde by the arm on their way out of school. "Because I'm pretty sure that I distinctly asked you to be nicer to Tutor Wife on Tuesday. This isn't being nicer!"

"Well, she should've thought of that before ripping Nate's heart out," retorted Peyton with a growl, struggling out of the brunette's hold. "And, just a little reminder, it was your idea to give me the first pick in the first place, so quit your bitching!"

"Well, I didn't think you'd go rogue and try to hurt Haley with it," the cheer captain snapped. "I mean, she's our friend, Peyton! And Nathan's her husband, if you haven't forgotten!"

"I think you're talking to the wrong girl, 'cause I certainly haven't forgotten, Brooke," cried the blonde. "Besides, Nate asked me to pick him, okay?"

"Nate did?" Brooke asked, shocked at that statement. "Really?"

"Yeah, he did," Peyton nodded, even though it was a half lie. Nathan hadn't gotten back to her on what he wanted but following how Haley was acting possessive yet still hanging out with Chris fucking Keller, the blonde couldn't stand it any longer. She had to act.

"Well, call him up and tell Nate you can't do it," Brooke ordered her best friend. "Tell him you won't betray one of your friends like that! Hoes over bros, remember?"

"And what? Betray him in the process? I don't think so," she shook her head in refusal.

"But you were supposed to use that pick and grab Lucas, while I nab Chris Keller away from Rachel," she whined, stamping her heel on the ground like a petulant child. "You're deviating from the plan, Peyton!"

"Then it's time you came up with a new plan, Brooke," Peyton told the brunette before walking away in a huff.

"But I liked my plan," she heard Brooke whimper.

* * *

"Are they really that bad?" Brooke asked, poking at one of the rock hard cookies she had baked for the squad for tonight's boy draft.

"Sorry, boss, but your cookies suck," an apologetic Ashley confirmed.

"Who wants cupcakes?" Rachel offered, sauntering into the apartment that Brooke shared with Haley like she owned the place. In her hands was a tray full of perfectly baked cupcakes, which all the girls rushed forward to partake in.

"Have you guys seen my new wall?" Brooke pointed to the wall in question, hoping to get one up on Rachel somehow. "It's, uh, it's of the French Riviera."

"Actually, it's the Italian Riviera, Brooke," Rachel corrected.

"It's my wall, so I think I'd know," she retorted.

"Your wall is of the Portofino harbor," the infuriating red-haired devil explained. "We vacay there every year." She casually approached the murial, laying a hand on one specific spot. "See? Here? This is the Splendido Mare. The people there are so hot!"

"So how are things on your end, roomie?" Haley inquired, sidling up next to the slightly taller brunette. "Bury the hatchet yet?"

"Funny you should ask since I'm about to bury it in her throat," Brooke rasped, hazel eyes narrowed at the newest member of the Ravens cheer squad as the other girls gathered around the red-head. "How about you?"

"Well, seeing as Peyton won't stay in one spot long enough for me to talk to her, I'm pretty much in the same boat," the tutor sighed, then glanced sidelong at Brooke. "So taking into consideration that I'm an honor student, how long do you suppose I'd get if I stabbed someone, say Peyton, in the neck with a giant fork, or something..."

"I don't know, that might count as a hate crime," Brooke said, uncertain.

"I'd be killing her for being a bitch, not for being a lesbian, so no hate crime committed," her shorter friend elaborated.

"Speaking of which, what are you so worried about anyway, Haley? It's not like she actually wants to date Nathan, seeing as she likes _girls_," reminded Brooke. "Remember?"

"I know, it's just that," Haley muttered miserably. "I can't believe he'd ask her to do this."

"You know what they say. Love makes us do stupid shit," the taller brunette said, laying a hand on Haley's shoulder. "I'll see if I can get her to change her mind, okay?"

The tutor nodded. "Okay, thanks, Brooke."

"But if I can't, can you do me a huge favor?" Brooke asked, hopeful.

"You want me to pick Luke, don't you?"

"I'd owe you big time if you did," she added.

"Well, if Lesbo Barbie picks Nate, I'll grab Luke for you then," her roommate promised.

"You're the best, Hales," Brooke rasped happliy. Her spirits slightly lifted by having a backup plan to take down Rachel (thanks to Tutor Wife), the head cheerleader headed to where Peyton was standing by herself, gazing out the window. "Hey, P Sawyer."

"Hey, B Davis," she greeted back, glancing at her knowingly. "Haley sent you over to convince me not to pick Nathan, didn't she?"

"Pretty much."

Peyton furrowed her brow at her best friend. "I'm doing this for their own good, Brooke."

Brooke glanced at her, confused. "If this is a ploy, then why-"

"Because she deserves to be tortured a little."

"This is cruel, P."

"Oh, I know it is," the blonde smirked. "Don't worry though. I plan to swap with her once this whole stupid thing is over with."

"Wow, and people call me a bitch," marvelled Brooke, not bothering to hide how impressed she was of her best friend's train of thought. "Well done."

"Coming from you, that's the highest of compliments," Peyton nodded in satisfaction.

"As it should be," the brunette nodded back, quickly adding. "Now let's just hope she'll still talk to you after this."

"Don't worry about that, Brooke," her best friend chuckled. "If I know Haley like I think I do, she most definitely will."

* * *

"Alright people, let's quiet down and get this thing started," Brooke declared to the assembled cheerleaders in her living room, their attention now on her.

_About damned time,_ Peyton thought, her attention shifting between Haley's ice cold glare and her best friend's bouncy exuberance.

The chestnut haired cheer captain sauntered over to Theresa, a marker in hand. "If you'd do the honors, Theresa."

"Got it, Brooke," the other girl nodded, taking the writing impliment from her. Theresa stood at the ready, cap off and prepared to write down the first pick.

"Okay, P, you're up first," Brooke stated.

Peyton smiled directly at a scowling Haley. "Nathan Scott."

"Nathan Scott," Theresa repeated, scribbling in his name beside the blonde's. "No big surprise there. Next?"

"I choose Chris Keller," Brooke quickly announced, sending her red-headed rival a victorious dimpled grin. The newcomer just quirked an eyebrow at Brooke before simply shrugging. "Bev-"

"Actually, I would like to announce that there's been a trade," Rachel interupted.

"What?" Brooke squeaked.

"After some previous deliberation between Bevin and myself, the third pick in this draft now belongs to me while Bevin receives my sixth pick along with a few undisclosed additional considerations," the red-head explained.

"You can't-"

"Now without further ado," Rachel continued unabated, completely ignoring the protest. "I proudly announce my pick for the draft as being." She paused for dramatic effect. Rachel winked at Peyton before finishing. "Marvin McFadden."

"Marvin McFadden," Theresa repeated, only to stop half way while writing. "Wait? Really?"

"Woo! Number three, baby!" Mouth could be heard outside, who everybody present had forgotten was there making his case when they'd arrived at the apartment. "Number three! Top five! Suck on that, Tree Hill!"

_Wow, I thought for sure she'd pick Lucas just to screw with Brooke,_ an amused Peyton smirked, only to jolt in shock when her best friend shot up from her seat in protest.

"No! No way!" Brooke shouted, her contesting of the pick most definitely surprising all the other cheerleaders as well. "There is no way I am letting you pick Mouth! No way in hell!"

"I wasn't aware we were supposed to pass our picks along for your approval, mine captain," her rival taunted. Rachel rose from her seat next to Bevin to address their peers. "Is this how it's going to be when everyone else picks a boy whom you don't approve of? Shouldn't we all have the right to choose who we want to be with, regardless if they are seen as 'popular' or 'nerdy'? Do we not still live in America, Brooke?" She turned to grin at the now wide-eyed Brooke. "Or is there another reason why you're so ardently against my pick?"

The assembled cheerleaders all looked at their captain as though one entity, the group awaiting her response. The creepiness in which this happened was not lost on Peyton either. _Stepford much?_

"I don't have anything against Mouth," a nervous Brooke said, unusually uneasy at all the attention now laid atop of her. "I just don't think you're good enough for him."

_Wow, you're really taking this grudge thing too far, B Davis,_ the blonde rolled her emerald eyes in disbelief.

"Well, tough shit!" Bevin exclaimed, her obviously annoyed tone startling everybody into shocked silence. Bevin was pretty frightening when she puts her mind to it, Peyton decided. "Haley. It's your turn."

"Lu...Lu, Lucas Scott," the musician-turned-cheerleader squawked, momentarily intimidated by the usually bubbly blonde girl.

"Now, there's a pick that makes sense," the ever sarcastic Theresa muttered, quickly jotting the blonde boy's name in the number four slot.

* * *

After Haley had gotten over her unexpected fear of the perennial cheery Bevin lashing out at Brooke during the now finished draft, the former musician attempted to follow the traitorous Peyton Sawyer with the intention of giving the broody blonde a piece of her mind. Her roommate prevented her from doing this though by grasping her by the sleeve.

"What the fuck just happened?" Brooke squeaked, still reeling that it was Bevin of all people who had shut her down.

"Your plan worked. Well, sort of," she answered, disengaging herself from the traumatized cheer captain. "I've got to catch up to Peyton. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Yeah, go on," the other girl waved her off, those once brilliant hazel eyes now glazed over in shock. "I'll be fine."

"Thanks, hon," Haley said, all but running out the door. The tutor had just arrived at the bottom of the stair to find her quarry patiently waiting there. "What the-"

"About time you got out here," the smug blonde smirked, almost towering over the shorter tutor at her full height. "What took you so long?"

The taller girl's blatant audacity infuriated Haley, who glared up at her. She desperately felt like slapping Peyton then and there but opted to administer a verbal smackdown instead. "Why would you do that to me, Peyton? Did it give you some sort of sick pleasure to hurt me like that? I know that what I did was wrong, but how is your picking my husband any better? I thought we were friends! I will never forgive you for this, Peyton! Nev-"

"I see Brooke's drama queen tendancies have rubbed off on you," the blonde interupted her passionate tirade, that infuriating smirk now gone and replaced with a deadly serious frown. "For the record though, I only did what I did to wake your stupid ass up."

"What?" Haley blinked in confusion.

"Consider this your wake up call, Haley James Scott," Peyton told her, turning away towards her parked Comet across the street. "Don't fuck it up, because it just might end up being your last chance with Nate."

It took a moment for Peyton's words to sink in but when they did, all a now watery eyed Haley could do was smile. _Thank you, Peyton. I won't let you down._

* * *

"Took you long enough, lover," Rachel purred into her prey's ear after patiently waiting until the car was a sufficient distance from Brooke's apartment to make her presence known, her hand caressing along the now freaked out blonde's collarbone. "I was starting to get cold."

"Holy fuck!" Peyton cried out, barely able to keep the Comet from swerving headlong into the ditch before hastily parking on the roadside. She glared at Rachel in the rearview mirror. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Seducing you?" Rachel smiled uneasy.

"Seducing me?" Peyton frowned, perplexed by the red-head's answer until realization slowly dawned on her. "Please tell me you're not naked back there."

The brazen newcomer's uneasy smile turned into a flirty grin. "Why don't you come join me and find out?"

"Never, ever thought I'd share something in common with Lucas Scott," the blonde muttered in disbelief, those magnificent viridian eyes now shut tight and long fingers massaging her temples.

"Not exactly the response I was hoping for," Rachel replied, disappointed that the attempt to seduce her crush was apparently failing. The newest Raven cheerleader laid a hand on the short haired blonde's shoulder. "Peyt-"

"Can you please put your clothes back on?" Peyton asked shakily, her eyes still closed.

Rachel decided to try one last time. "Do I have to?"

"Just do it, Rachel," her crush growled.

"Fine, spoil sport," groaned the red-head, relunctantly pulling her clothes back on. When she was finished dressing Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. "You can open your eyes now."

"Hop in the front," Peyton ordered. When a crestfallen Rachel climbed over the seat and strapped herself in, the blonde wordlessly shifted the car back into gear to resume driving in silence. This went on for several moments until the brooding driver broke it. "I don't know where you live, so you're going to have to tell me."

"1630 Revello, near Hadley," she stated haughtily following another long silence. The red-head stared straight ahead as Peyton simply grunted in response. They soon arrived at the old house Rachel's absentee parents had yet to spend a single night in, the blonde letting out a low whistle. Rachel glanced at her. "You want to come in?"

"Not going to happen," the other girl shook her head.

"What am I doing wrong?" Rachel asked, her insecurities swiftly coming to the fore in the face of Peyton's constant rejection. She combed her long fingers through her auburn hair. No one had ever resisted her advances like Peyton was doing now, so Rachel was at a complete loss on what to do next. "Is this because I picked Mouth in the draft? Because if it is-"

"I don't care about that," Peyton cut in sharply. She took an audible breath. "It's not that I don't find you attractive, Rachel. I do," the blonde admitted. "It's just...I don't do dating."

That answer intrigued the newcomer. "Bad breakup?"

"Very," she confirmed with a barely perceptable nod, gazing straight ahead.

"If that's the case, then just give me a call when you're ready," Rachel laid a hand atop of her crush's, who immediately pulled away from the contact.

"Could be a long wait for nothing, Rachel," Peyton whispered.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take, Peyton," the red-head whispered back, opening the door to exit.

"You'd be better off with Mouth," the blonde stated before driving away, the door slamming shut as the Comet rumbled down the road.

"This might be tougher than I originally thought," a disappointed but still determined Rachel declared aloud to no one particular, the red tail lights of Peyton's car taunting her.

**End scene.**

**Reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!**

**Track 5 ~ Too Clever By Half - the Long Blondes (from 'the Couples')**


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